


A Single Shared Dawn

by natcat5



Series: Dark Month 2015 [5]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alpha kids - Freeform, Friendship, Gen, Road Trips, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-25 01:08:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4940887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natcat5/pseuds/natcat5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which two teenagers steal some exotic fish from an eccentric old woman.<br/>Give or take a few details.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Single Shared Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> When was the last time I wrote a homestuck fic.

“Jane, not that I’m not always ready and willing for some rip-roaring, good old fashioned shenanigans,” says Jake, blinking nervously, “But a raid on your somewhat megalomaniacal Grandmother’s warehouse seems a bit out of the standard range of our tomfoolery.”

“Jake, I know, trust me, I know,” Jane says, hands fiddling with the hem of her shirt nervously, “But you have to believe me when I say it’s a life or death situation.”

Jake’s eyes widen dramatically, and his mouth falls open uselessly for a few seconds.

“Ours?” he squeaks, alarmed.

“Goodness no!” Jane interjects immediately, brows rising, “If we get caught, I imagine I’ll get quite the admonishing knuckle rap, but no, my grandmother is not prone to heiricide. And she finds you amusing, so I imagine you’re safe as well.”

Jake looks less then reassured, but he plasters on a crooked smile and gives her a thumbs up. “Ah, capital!” he says, enthusiasm not quite reflected in his eyes, “But then, what exactly is the situation that requires us to steal something from her, posthaste?”  

Jane hesitates, and then begins fidgeting again, staring at her shoes nervously. “Well…”

\--

Four teenagers sit in a booth at the back of a diner, silhouetted by the light streaming in from the window behind them, the sun dawning on the horizon.

On one side of the booth, sits the heiress to Crockercorp, her body shaking with laughter. On her shoulder is a young man her age, the grandson of an eccentric traveller, his glasses askew on his face and grinning crookedly into the shirt of the girl beside him.

Across from them sit two individuals less easily identified. A girl with pale hair, looking oddly magenta-hued in the light. Her arms are folded beneath her, upper body resting on the booth’s table. In the light, the skin on her neck looks strange, folded in unusual ways, with a shimmer to it that seems distinctly fantastical. She’s smiling, looking up from underneath hooded eyelids.

Beside her, another boy leans against the seat, head back. Unusual sunglasses sit on his face, and the sun’s light makes his skin look almost orange-tinged. There’s a slight tenseness to his shoulders, but he’s smirking, and his expression is otherwise unguarded.

How they arrived at this spot, at this particular diner at this particular time, is a story that makes little sense. And is fact, entirely implausible, given the nature of the two blonde teens on the other side of the booth.

But then, the best stories always fall into the realm of impossibility.

\--

Jane’s Great-Grandmother, the head of Crockercorp, was known to be a bit of an eccentric, in both business practices and family life. She was surprisingly militaristic for the head of a baking corporation that dabbled in communication technologies, and had a bizarre fondness for marine biology that no one could quite figure out the root of.

Every month, she received a new order of exotic fish to add to the expansive aquarium in her mansion. A fixture that took up an entire floor of tanks, walls made of glass and water, and extensive tubing.

During the arrival of the July Shipment, Jane was visiting the warehouse with her father, a hands-on field trip for her heiress education. The tracking and logging of shipments was an important part of running a business, and while it was generally left to the middlemen, there was no harm in learning how the procedures were undertaken.

So Jane was at the warehouse when her Grandmother’s new fish arrived, trying not to space out as the floor manager discussed numbers and productivity with her father. She watched as two covered containers, stacked atop one another, were driven through the warehouse, to a back corner, far from the frontal area where her father and the manager were chatting.

Bored as she was, and with no end to the conversation in the sight, Jane decided to satisfy her curiousity, and to see just what type of exotic creatures her Grandmother had procured. For certain, Grandma Crocker was proud of her collection, but the rarer things she bought, her prized specimens as it were, were kept secluded from the rest of the aquarium. It had been a source of keen aggravation when Jane was a child. And even now, a teenager, she feels her curiosity begin to twist furiously, and her inner gumshoe churn at the chance to catch a sight of what elusive creatures her predecessor might keep.

So Jane slips away from her father, from the manager, and follows the crates. She ducks behind a corner until the containers are finished being unloaded, still covered by sheets, and hurries towards them only when the men who delivered them are safely out of sight.

She means to just peek. To lift up the corner of the sheet and catch a glimpse of what exotic marine specimens her Grandmother is so unwilling to reveal from the world.

Jane darts out of her hiding place, lifting the sheet and ducking under it, to finally see…

Her eyes widen.

She barely stifles a scream.

In the tank in front of her are two…two…

_Mermaids._

The one hovering near the top of the tank is a dark shade of pink, slightly luminescent in the darkness under the sheet. A beautiful aquatic tail extends from its lower half, ending in a large, fan-like fin. Its upper-half, while mostly human, is adorned with glittering pink scales, all the way up to its neck. Darker-coloured gills are visible along its side and neck, flexing and rippling in the water. Jane’s gaze travels up to its face, to the cloud of pinkish-blonde hair, and to the striking magenta eyes that are centered on her.

The latter is an orange colour, veering close to red near the lower end of its tail, and closer to gold up near its chest. Unlike the other mermaid, whose eyes are piercing but otherwise non-aggressive, this ones’ eyes are narrowed in distrust, and its tail lashes in agitation as Jane matches its gaze.

But more striking than the tails and the scales, the gills and the colours, is the _intelligence._ The clear sentience in their eyes. The sadness and stubbornness in the former’s, the anger and frustration in the latter’s.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” Jane whispers, before she even realizes what she’s saying, pressing her hands against the glass. “I’m going to set you free.”

\--

Jake English, grandson of avid explorer, researcher, scientist, and notorious anti-Crocker activist Jade English, is a self-proclaimed adventurous spirit, gung-ho voyager, and dashing action hero in the making.

He is also deathly afraid of Jane’s great-grandmother, which means his involvement in her heist includes much shaking, some whimpering, and general clinging to the back of her shirt while moving the phonelight about erratically.

But Jane can’t fault him for it. He’s not protected by dynastic succession like she is, and everyone knows what happens to people who cross Crockercorp. Everyone _also_ knows how much her Grandmother prizes the collection in her aquarium, so all together, Jake isn’t unfounded in his fear.

But he’s here, and that’s the important part. No matter what doubts he might have, Jake always comes through in the end. Which Jane’s glad for. They’ll need all hands on deck for this one.

“While I know it’s a bit late to be having misgivings,” whispers Jake, close behind her as they hurry through the darkened warehouse, “Are you _quite_ sure that you saw a fantastical creature of some sort? Not that I don’t trust you, or your peepers, but well, there’s a quite a bit at stake here, so…”

“You’ll see for yourself in a moment,” hisses Jane, “And I told you, there were _two._ ”

Behind her, Jake sighs. He’s not exactly the disbelieving sort, but Jane will admit, claiming that her great-gran has two mermaids held captive in her shipping warehouse is a bit of a tall claim, no matter how eccentric the woman is.

It doesn’t matter what she says, in the end, what explanations and assurances she gives. Because once they’ve reached the containers, once she’s pulled down the sheet…

Jake stops dead behind her, and Jane hears him make an aborted squeaking sound as the discarded white sheet falls into a heap on the floor.

The light from their phones that they’ve been using to guide them aren’t even needed, the glow from the creatures in the tank more than enough to illuminate them. And that luminescence from their scales, the shine from their eyes, makes them all the more impressive, all the more unbelievable. To Jane, they seem even more unreal, even more fantastic in the darkness of the empty warehouse, bathed in their own natural light.

“Jesus Kringle-fucking Christ,” whispers Jake, his grip on the back of Jane’s shirt tightening.

“I know,” agrees Jane, choosing not to dwell on the details of his chosen expletive, “Think you can carry one to the truck?”

This is the plan, hastily constructed, not without flaws, but certain to suceed, by nature of Jane’s conviction alone. She’s borrowed her cousin Meenah’s truck, which is fitted with old storage bins filled with water, and has enough gas to drive them to the nearby coast. It’s about half a day’s drive, but Jane hopes it will be less since they’re starting in the wee hours of the morning, the traffic non-existent.

Jane imagines the toughest part will be carrying the mermaids to the truck. She only caught a quick glimpse during the day, before she had to scamper away to avoid detection, and they seem much bigger than her memory dictated. Not so much their torsos, but their massive, muscular tails.

And what if they resist? Jane knows they’re intelligent, that there is no ethical or moral argument that would allow them to be caged up like this, but will she be able to communicate to them that she’s trying to rescue them? That she’s not another kidnapper? Goodness, do they _bite?_

Both the mermaids are watching them, the orange one suspicious again, the pink one looking curious, a little bit excited even. Jane wonders if she’s projecting human emotions onto creatures that can’t feel them. Jane wonders if she’ll lose a finger for her troubles the second she opens the tank.

But it’s too late for ifs and buts at this point, so Jane clambers up onto Jake’s shoulders and pries the top of the tank open with the crowbar she brought, feeling the weight of the mermaid’s eyes on her intensely, wondering absurdly if she’ll still be able to bake while missing fingers.  

The fear she’s tried to suppress comes surging upwards as she pops open the lid and the orange creature swims swiftly to the top of tank and pushes it away entirely. Jane squeaks and nearly overbalances off of Jake’s shoulders as it places both hands on the edge of the container and leans over, staring at them menacingly.

“What are you doing?” hisses the mermaid. Its voice is an odd mix of sibilant and warbly, both otherwise perfectly intelligible English. It’s so sudden and unexpected that Jane finds herself at a loss for words.

It’s Jake who replies, tittering nervously before stammering out, “R-rescuing you?”

The look on the mermaid’s face deepens in its suspicion, and Jane struggles to force her thoughts to cooperate. _It can talk_ reverberates at the back of her mind, but she refuses to dwell on it, pushing words out from her throat.

“I-I’ve got some bins with water in them in my truck,” she squeaks out, lowering the crowbar so it looks less like she’s preparing to use it as a weapon. “J-just until we’ve reached the coast. To-to let you go? W-we’ll carry you there. To the truck I mean, not the coast. I think Jake and myself can manage it…”

Jane trails off, pinned by the intensity of the creature’s gaze. She’s beginning to wish she had thought things through just a _little_ bit more. Below her, she can feel Jake shaking.

Then the water breaks again, and the other mermaid appears. Jane doesn’t think she’s imagining it, the much friendlier look on the pink one’s face, and she tries to relax a little, as it swims forward and leans on the edge of the tank as well.

“Oh?” it says, voice a little higher than the orange one’s, “That’s real kind of you. Ignore this guy,” it points to the orange mermaid (merman?) and smiles, “He’s paranoid as heck. I, however, totes believe you. _Thank you.”_

Then the mermaid’s smile widens, a toothy, sharp thing that has Jake muttering another breathless expletive.

“But there’s no need to carry us,” it continues, pink eyes twinkling with some hidden mirth, “We can walk.”

\--

In the darkness of the warehouse, in the water of the tank, and bathed by the luminescent light of their scales, the two mercreatures had looked terrifyingly inhuman. Had looked exotic, and strange, and dangerously beautiful.

And to that end, it’s disconcerting, the difference human clothing makes.

The taller one, the merman, dressed in a spare hoodie and sweatpants, all his scales covered up except for a few peeking out at the base of his neck. He’s covered his eyes with a pare of distorted safety glasses Jake found on Meenah’s dashboard, and with his webbed hands ducked into the hoodie pocket, the only striking thing about him is the strangely spiky manner in which his hair appears to be drying.

The pink one is a bit less covered, in a large t-shirt and leggings. The scales on her arms have disappeared, but the skin is still tinged pink, and bits of webbing still between her fingers. The side of her neck is still distorted slightly, even though the gills have disappeared, and her hair has retained its pink-tinged hue. Her eyes still strikingly magenta.

But while their appearance is still slightly unusual, it pales against their true forms, the floating, glowing beauty in the tanks, and Jane can’t imagine anyone would look at either of them and think ‘mermaid’. It’s a good thing she’s gotten into the habit of carrying extra clothes around with her, as her dad advised (in case Crockercorp was threatened and she had to immediately go into hiding. Typical Heiress concerns). They look, for all purposes, human.

“I’m Roxy,” says the pink mermaid, the girl, “And this is Dirk.”

Names too. Names that you could find on any human. It makes Jane wonder just how closely intertwined their species are, even though the majority of humanity has no idea they exist.

“By golly,” whistles Jake, hands on his hips, “Why, you’d fool me if I hadn’t seen you beforehand! What striking transformative abilities! Is that a learned thing, or a natural talent? Can you adapt to anything? Could you, per se, if you were thrown out of a high-flying vehicle of sorts, immediately sprout feathers or some similar kind of-,”

“Oh yeah,” says Dirk, interrupting Jake’s tirade, “Depends on the climate too. If you dropped us into a volcano we would immediately transform into dragons, complete with the leathery wings and ability to spew fire and brimstone. It’s why we don’t like going up North, suddenly acquiring a layer of blubber and a fear of leopard seals makes us all uncomfortable.”

Jake’s eyes light up and even Jane’s interest is piqued. Until she looks at Roxy’s face, sees her laughing from behind the palm of her hand, and realizes they’re being treated to some definite, terrifyingly human _sarcasm._

Jane mentally gives Dirk his very own prankster’s gambit meter, and resolves to get him back somehow, to one up the clever fishy bastard at something on their long drive.

She finds herself smiling, as they all pile into the truck, water-filled bins discarded by the side of the road, and begin driving to their destination.

She’s not worried about her fingers anymore, at the very least.

\--

Roxy and Dirk are hilarious, fun to talk to, and more interesting then the entirety of Jane’s class at school. They’re both clever, funny, and don’t find Jane and Jake’s somewhat old-fashioned nature – always a point of odds with other people their age – strange or alienating at all. Roxy likes adventure stories, and regales an enraptured Jake with several underwater tales filled with action and heroism. And Dirk likes banter, and seems to appreciate Jane’s spirited efforts to match his wit head to head. Their prankster’s gambit meters go back and forth, and Jane’s filled with a furious pride every time she manages to wrest the upper hand from him, however briefly.

Neither Jane nor Jake have much luck making friends their own age, not with their unusual lineage and somewhat peculiar personality quirks, but they get on with Dirk and Roxy immediately and strongly. A feeling of camaraderie that gives Jane a peculiar twisting in her stomach when she realizes that, upon reaching the ocean, they’re never going to see each other again.

\--

The hour spent in the diner, illuminated by the rising sun, feels a bit like a moment frozen in time. They don’t talk about the coast, they don’t talk about the daring rescue. They laugh and they crack jokes, and Roxy takes her very first selfie kissing Jane’s cheek. Jake and Dirk trade glasses and Roxy steals Jake’s button-up and Dirk examines Jake’s tiaratop and transforming spoon, delighted and enthralled by the technology. The tired, unamused waitress brings them all a stack of pancakes that they share. Jake and Jane watch Dirk and Roxy’s reaction to the sweetness of the syrup with delight, until the delight turns to horror when Roxy decides to better the flavouring by pouring the entirety of the salt shaker into the syrup pitcher.

Jane’s stomach twists again, just a little, when she realizes she’s been unconsciously planning a baking session to show Dirk and Roxy what _real_ pancakes should taste like.

But the sun is up, and they’ll be at the coast before long.

\--

The last leg of the journey is a little more subdued, but no less enjoyable. A few more hours spent talking, bantering, telling stories and taking pictures. Listening to shitty, local stations, laughing at horrendous fish puns, and then, finally, arriving at the coast.

It’s a strangely bittersweet and painful goodbye, considering how short a time they’ve known each other. Jake is looking more than a little teary, and Jane’s struggling to keep a stiff upper lip herself. She can’t quite hold back her tears, however, as she watches Dirk and Roxy shed the borrowed clothes and transform into their true forms, shimmering and scaled, eyes glowing faintly, breathtakingly beautiful as they lie in the waves.

“You saved our lives,” Dirk says fervently, voice a little raspier than when he was transformed as a human, “Jane, Jake, thank you. We owe you everything.”

“We’re not going to forget you!” Roxy shouts over the waves, her own eyes blinking furiously, as if fighting back tears, “I’m officially designating you guys my best on-land friends, and that’s forever. That’s for forever.”

“It was n-no trouble at all!” Jake shouts back, voice shaky, “We’d do it again in a heartbeat! And you are, the two of you are…”

“We won’t forget you either!” Jane adds, clutching her phone, the one with the pictures, as if it were her last lifeline, “Not in a lifetime!”

Dirk smiles a little, though it’s a sad thing, and Roxy waves furiously, before blowing a kiss.

Then they’re gone, swallowed by the ocean, free from Jane’s Great-Grandmother, and never to be seen again.

“Well,” exhales Jake, hands on his hips and eyes red, “That’s a story for the old grandkids, hm? Wouldn’t you say?”

The smile Jane gives him is watery, before she looks down at her phone, scrolling through the pictures of Roxy smushed against her cheek, of Jake and Dirk with their glasses switched, of all four of them crammed together, trying to all fit into the camera frame.

“Oh definitely,” she agrees, “It’s one we’ll never forget.”

 

 

\--

 


End file.
